The Temple of Avinasi by Ayush Pathak (First Chapter)

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Transcript of The Temple of Avinasi by Ayush Pathak (First Chapter)

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The Temple of Avinasi

By

Ayush Pathak

From the aquatic triplicity shall be born,

One who shall make Thursday his Holy Day;

His fame, praise, power and rule shall grow,

By land and the sea to become a tempest to the East.

~ Michel De Nostradamus (1503-1566): His most famous prophecy about the possible arrival of

the Kalki Avatar, the „aquatic triplicity‟ representing India.

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Chapter Zero

A Night of Might

It was to be an eventful day for Shri. The kind of „eventful‟ which runs a chill down your spine

and floods the deepest depths of your soul with dread in later years just by a mention.

Shri checked his watch for the ninety-eighth time. It showed thirty minutes to midnight.

Twenty-nine minutes and thirty-seven seconds exactly, for when you are an immortal having

lived thousands of years and have seen reigns building up and destroying in the matter of

intervals, you get to be used to pay proper respect to the almighty Time. Being accurate to the

precision of a second was one of the basic lessons all the immortal Devs were trained to observe.

And Shri had never failed in his lessons: the greatest proof of which was that he was still alive.

Immortal unless killed: that‟s what the Devs were exactly.

Shri checked his watch again, for the ninety-ninth time. Twenty-seven minutes and thirty

seconds still left to the deadline of twelve o'clock. Compare the time with the calendar‟s date

and, despite being a mere mortal, you might observe that something serious was going on. 31st

December 1999: few more minutes to pass and all the clocks in the world would be celebrating

the end of millennium and welcoming a new one with the big-big zeroes on their dials... The

mortals were celebrating this instant. However, Shri wasn‟t happy, and his reasons were

justified.

„They have got it all wrong!‟ Shri thought.

“The end is merely the beginning to a greater end.”

Yes that was it! The mortals never got it right. But Shri did. And for him and the other

immortals, the mortals were, in general, called by their more commonly used name - „The

Nashwars‟.

After all Shri wasn‟t any ordinary immortal. He was a Light Seeker! But generally the Nashwars

have no idea about what a Light Seeker is. This is due to the reason that they don‟t know

anything about the Temple, which they would have known if they had any idea about the Epic

Wars. But of course they don‟t know about that too for they never learn history properly. And

the books they have of history just go about three thousand five hundred years back. But when

is that history? Shri used to think. That‟s the time of the present era: the Humans era, those

books are talking about. Where is the information about the time prior to this present period?

When do these books contain information about the Epic Wars: the clash between Angels and

Demons? They term it not as history but Mythology, as if both are different! But then why the

hell do all the religions and regions in the world have nearly the same mythology? Don‟t the

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thick brains of Nashwars see the simple resemblance that all these different mythologies of

different regions throughout the world indicate towards one single great event: A great war of

dominance in the beginning of time between the Evil and the Good?

Call it the war between Gods and Titans by the Greek/Romans or the Dev-Asur wars by the

Indians, or the clash between Angels and Demons as described by various religions throughout

the earth… All are the same. The Angels won of course! Or Shri wouldn‟t have been alive, or

perhaps even born. Only that the terms „Angels‟, „Devs‟ or „gods‟ weren‟t their real names but

the ones by which different Human tribes in different regions of the world used to call them.

But still among the immortals they used to prefer their real name: „The Light Seekers‟. But again

Shri was sure that the Nashwars had no idea about that too.

Shri couldn‟t understand why the Nashwars still called their worthless subject about medieval

times as „History‟. He often wondered, “Where is the „History‟ in those History books?”

According to his opinion they should better call the subject „Present‟. And if the humans are so

stubborn on calling it History, then at least call it „The Present-History‟ or the „Present-human-

history-with-all-the-essential-details-kept-out‟, but definitely not the „History‟.

They are all wrong about the date too: the Nashwars. They are celebrating the occasion. If only

they had any idea about the danger this new millennium had put the world in.

A gate appeared out of thin air and a fellow Light Seeker emerged out of it, facing Shri. Like all

Devs he was a tall and sturdily built one with magnificent platinum armour. His one hand was

loosely gripped on the hilt of his sword while in the other was a parchment which he handled

to Shri.

“Lord Brihaspati?” Shri asked. The messenger nodded. A glint came in Shri‟s eyes. “At last!”

Shri opened the parchment hastily and read.

“The weapon must be destroyed.”

His excitement faded. „So, this is it!?‟ Shri was disappointed. He was expecting Lord Brihaspati

to come and join the command himself, yet a part of him felt proud that Lord Brihaspati found

him capable enough to be trusted with a mission of this importance. The parchment was just a

signal that the final assault should begin.

Shri checked his watch once more, finally for the hundredth time. 11:35pm: twenty-five minutes

to finish the task. The mission was simple: Destroy the weapon and save the world, only that he

had less than half an hour for this „world saving‟ thing.

*********

The prime disadvantage of fighting for the good is that you have to pay a price for being on the

good side. Shri was aware of it, and he had already paid the price. As he entered the unguarded

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gates of the Dark Fort, he knew of the horrible possibilities that lay ahead: His death being the

least terrifying of them all.

As soon as they entered the fort, Shri could sense that something was wrong. The Dark Fort, as

its name suggested, was filled with a terrible darkness, as if the air itself has been painted in a

sinister black. The wind too, seemed to have turned significantly heavy, and was now pressing

against their shoulders, a pungent smell of sulphur filling their noses.

They proceeded.

Everything in the place, the darkness, the water, the noises and even the wind seemed to be

playing tricks with their minds, and Shri was fully aware that these mind tricks were just a part

of the cave‟s evil nature... It wasn‟t simple chance that made the enemy Asurs choose this place

as their headquarters. Shri was sure of the fact that, for his team, troubles had just begun.

“Are you sure that we shouldn‟t have brought more of us for this mission?” one of his soldiers

asked, looking anxiously at the surroundings. Bones and skeletons were tied mercilessly to

rocks and pillars everywhere.

“No Victor,” Shri replied sternly, “Lord Brihaspati has entrusted us with the mission. Our

instructions are clear, we mustn‟t let the enemy Nishachars know about the „Weapon‟.”

Shri‟s concern was reasonable. The Nishachars were another immortal race (again the

Nashwars, the humans, had no idea about them too), and had always played on the wrong side

of the things. Throughout the history the Devs and Nishachars had always been on the opposite

fronts. The Devs chose the Good side: the Nishachars went for Evil, if the Devs were protectors:

Nishachars believed in destruction. All the previous mythological wars have been fought

mostly between these two sides. If the Devs were known as Angels, the Nishachars were the Demons.

“But shouldn‟t we wait for the Temple to send reinforcements?” Victor argued.

“We don‟t have that much time,” Shri replied, “And besides, calling out for Temple‟s battalions

will be like sending out an invitation letter to the Nishachars. They will know about it instantly.

Enough blood has already been spilt. We don‟t want any more of it.”

“But they have helped us kill the Asur king, Makarasur Veda,” Victor said, “Even you would

give the Nishachars this much credit.”

The name of the Asur king sent a surge of guilt through Shri. “An enemy‟s enemy doesn‟t

necessarily mean to be a friend, Victor,” he said, “Not when you are dealing with the evil

Nishachars. Haven‟t you taken any lesson from history? The Asurs were their enemies also. The

Asur king Makarasur Veda was a threat to the Nishachars. That‟s why they wanted him dead.”

Somehow Shri wasn‟t still sure if the Devs had done the right thing by taking aid of a race

which had been their enemy since the great Epic Wars, four thousand years ago.

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“Lord Brihaspati doesn‟t trust the Nishachars, neither would I ever trust a creature of the

Dark,” Shri said, “You should know what they call themselves in secret. They call themselves as

the Dark Seekers, the opposite to what we are. And I am sure that they haven‟t still forgotten

the basic enmity between our races.”

Victor nodded. Even he didn‟t trust the Nishachars, no Light Seeker did. And when the mission

was of such importance as that of today then he was secretly glad that the Devs were operating

alone.

For the next ten minutes, they walked through halls and corridors, lighting up their torches,

checking through the chambers hastily. They couldn‟t find it yet. Shri‟s brows creased. Time

was running out, they had to find the „thing‟ soon.

“Are you sure that the Weapon is kept at this fort?” one of the soldiers asked desperately, “I

mean Veda had so many places to hide it. He could have hidden it in any corner of the world.”

“Lord Brihaspati says that it is here in the Dark Fort. And if he says something, I believe it to be

true. I would trust Lord Brihaspati with my life,” Shri said.

“I think everyone of us trusts him with our life,” Victor said, “Or we wouldn‟t have been here.

But what troubles us is that the fort is too vast, how are we supposed to find the weapon in such

a short time?”

“Leave that to me,” Shri said, “I know where it is.”

Shri stopped abruptly. The corridor had ended into a large hall. The Devs soldiers‟ eyes

widened at the sight before them. About fifty bodies were lying around them pierced with

swords, spears and arrows. There were also women and children among the dead. The bodies

were not just left dead but also mutilated badly. None of the dead had any sort of weapons in

their hands.

“They are not soldiers,” Shri said, “They were all unarmed, when killed.”

“That‟s abominable!” One of the Dev soldier spat in disgust. “Ladies and Lads…! Who could

commit such a cowardly act?”

“Do you think that the Weapon could have unleashed itself?” Victor asked uncertainly.

“No,” Shri said, “The Weapon isn‟t that powerful yet. It‟s something else.”

The wounds on the bodies appeared fresh. Shri could see that they couldn‟t have been dead for

more than a few hours. He looked around and realized that this had been the Royal Court, the

throne room, of the Asur Palace. Even though the hall had been damaged and ruined by the

killings, still the Devs could see that its architecture had been admirable.

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The great dome-shaped hall had five pairs of golden chairs, placed in two rows facing each

other, each chair having a different gem: pearl, emerald, sapphire, moonstone, ruby and others

on its arms. Amidst them, was a six feet wide red carpeted passageway, which ended in a

couple of steps leading to a grand dais, raised significantly from the other thrones, where stood

the marvellous Diamond Throne of Makarasur Veda. Once this throne had been a symbol of

might and prosperity, but today it lay abandoned, and so did the great hall, with most of its

protectors dead and rest having fled.

The great hall had no other doors or corridors. The walls were carved with pictures showing the

heroics of the Asur warriors in the epic wars. And there were neither any windows nor any

doors to go further ahead. All they could look at was the stone-demon standing behind the

king‟s throne. The stone-demon was holding a spear in one hand and its other hand lay

outstretched with the palm pointing towards the throne. The palm had its middle finger

missing.

“The hall is an absolute impasse. We might have come the wrong way,” one of the soldiers said.

“No we are precisely on the right track,” Shri said, “There is a secret corridor behind those

walls. That‟s where the Weapon is kept.”

“I have heard of the secret corridors of the Dark Fort,” Victor said, “But I doubt if we would

ever be able to find it. They say said that none other than those who „Know‟ can find the

passage to those secret labyrinth corridors.”

A flash of his childhood came to Shri when he and his friends used to play merrily in those

corridors. But that was when the world was more peaceful. Again the same stab of guilt! Shri tried

hard not to think about that. “I don‟t have to find it,” he said moving forward towards the

throne. The stone demon was standing with its palm outstretched, “I know it.”

The other Devs gave him bewildered looks. Shri ignored them. He tugged at a marble-sized

diamond from the right arm of the throne, and plugged it into the hole where the gargoyle‟s

middle finger should have been. Carefully, he took a few steps back. For an instant nothing

happened. And then the stone demon‟s eyes lightened up. With a crackling sound the stone-

demon began to revolve slowly, sinking downwards. The dais‟s floor opened into descending

staircases, taking them to a low ceiling dormitory full of pillars. The soldiers looked at Shri

incredulously.

“Oh, don‟t give me those looks,” Shri said modestly, looking at the surprised faces of his

soldiers, “It was too obvious a hint to find.”

“NOT THAT OBVIOUS FOR US, OF COURSE!” A sound rang in the hall which made a chill

run down the Devs‟ spines. “WE HAD BEEN LOOKING FORWARD TO YOUR HELP IN

FINDING THE PASSAGE.”

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A tall man with a pale face emerged out of the shadows. He was holding an icy long sword and

had a maniacal glint in his eyes. Shri knew that face. It was Darin Fostermark, the Nishachar

leader. Shri‟s hands gripped his sword.

“Good evening Light Seekers,” Fostermark said, “We meet again!” The Devs flinched at their

places in unease. All around Devs, about twenty dark shadows began creeping towards them.

The enemy was there.

***********

The weapon must be destroyed.

Shri could see that their chances weren‟t that good. There were about twenty Nishachars

against those six Devs, and not to forget their leader, Fostermark. He could see the chamber at

the end of the corridor where the „Weapon‟ was kept.

“I don‟t want any trouble, Light Seekers,” Fostermark‟s voice echoed in the room, “Give us

what we have come for, and we will let you live.”

“—and let you destroy the world,” Shri said, “Not until we are alive.”

“Then you would die,” Fostermark said, “Resistance would be foolish. You are impossibly

outnumbered.” The twenty armed dark figures advanced towards the Devs with their swords

high. A drop of sweat ran down Shri‟s face.

“There are too many,” Victor said, “We wouldn‟t be able to defeat them.”

“Then hold them for as long as possible,” Shri said, “Lord Brihaspati must be thinking what is

taking us this long. We have to hold them till he arrives. They mustn‟t get to the „weapon‟ at any

cost.” Shri looked at his fellow soldiers. He could see that their initial anxiety had evaporated

and their faces were fixed with determination. The Devs had been trained not to fear death even

in impossible conditions.

“I ask you one last time, Light Seeker,” Fostermark addressed directly to Shri, “You fight you

die.”

“Then so be it,” Shri said and raised his sword high, “FOR THE TEMPLE!!!” His sword

gleamed from tip to toe. The other Devs joined the shout, and the next moment twenty

Nishachar soldiers charged at them.

Metals clashed fiercely with each other. Not just swords and spears, but there were also

magicians on both sides.

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The Nishachar closest to Shri charged him with a spear. But Shri was fast. He immediately

ducked and, before the enemy could recover, Shri stabbed him in the chest. Just at the same

moment he saw a fellow Dev falling from the blows of three hooded Nishachars combined.

The fight didn‟t last long. The Devs‟ numbers decreased rapidly. Varuna, who had taken two,

was taken by a surprise assault from the back, while he was already facing four. Kartik, badly

injured, had joined Krissh, and both were facing enemies together back to back, when a single

disintegrating mantra had taken them both.

Now it was only Victor, the prime Dev spell-caster: alive only due to his excellent abilities in

offensive magic, and Shri -- the two of them trying desperately to keep the enemy away. A

bright glow surrounded Victor, and he was hammering the enemy with his magical spells. The

Nishachars maintained a distance from him. On the other hand Shri had taken two more in

combat. The Nishachar leader, Fostermark hadn‟t yet joined the fight, but was watching Shri‟s

movements intently. Shri was aware that Fostermark would be a far more dangerous opponent.

Victor‟s staff threw a bolt of lightning which caught a slim Nishachar in the abdomen. The

Nishachar‟s body crashed to the ground. The cloak left its bare face, and a childlike cry came

from the fallen innocent looking young girl, whom Victor watched stunned.

“Don‟t Kill me… Please… Don‟t…!”She said feebly, with real tears in her eyes.

Victor‟s sword hesitated for a moment and, before he could recover, the child‟s claws reached

his belly and with a stroke, pulled out his entrails.

The child gave him an evil sneer, as Victor fell down with astonished eyes.

Shri cried out in protest. His last ally, his friend, Victor, was dead. Without Victor, Shri

wouldn‟t be able to fight all these Nishachars alone. But it wasn‟t his own death Shri was

worried about. He looked again at the chamber where the Weapon was hidden. He knew that

the enemy mustn‟t get it at any cost.

„The weapon must be destroyed.‟ There was only one way to do it now. Shri left the fight and made

a run towards the chamber. The Nishachars followed but fell behind.

***********

Shri‟s body crashed against the door and it broke open. There were two female guards, but both

looked too frightened. None of them tried to stop him. Shri ignored them. There, in the centre of

the chamber, surrounded by a circular curtain, was what Shri was looking for.

Shri‟s grip on his sword tightened as he went past the curtains. It was yet ten minutes to

midnight. He was going to finish it once and for all. Shri‟s could see it. But whatever

determination he had, faltered at the sight he saw. Shri always knew that confronting the

Weapon would be tough, but he still wasn‟t ready for the sight in front of him. His resolve faded.

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Innumerable emotions erupted out of his heart at the sight. Shri was hypnotized… There was

no way he could do it.

SLASH!

Shri‟s right arm dropped dead on the ground as the icy sword went through it, detaching it

completely from his body. Shri‟s glance turned from his chopped up arm to Fostermark who

was holding his icy long-sword and leered as Shri‟s body stumbled and crashed on the ground.

Shri had failed.

***********

“I see that the hands of the Temple are not as strong as they used to be!” Fostermark smirked,

holding Shri‟s detached hand and making a show of it. The other Nishachars in the chamber

laughed aloud. Shri tried to get up but Fostermark kicked him in the chest and he stumbled

again.

“Give it up cripple,” Fostermark said, “You should have surrendered when you had the chance.

You lose.”

“You are mistaken” Shri said feebly, “Lord Brihaspati would be arriving here any moment.”

Fostermark jeering stopped. His face frowned. “Did you say…?”

The next moment, as if the whole mood of the environment changed. A white figure had just

appeared in the chamber. It was an old man in white robes and a French beard. He was holding

a long trident in his right hand. His expressions were calm but there was an unmistakable aura

of tremendous energy radiating from him.

“Brihaspati…!” A Dark Seeker cried in horror. Even the evil Nishachars felt a chill as they saw

the white figure raising his trident and charging at them.

“And now you lose.” Shri said finally and closed his eyes.

***********

The last card is also the uttermost card.

Darin Fostermark couldn‟t be more bewildered and lost ever in his life. But today, he lay there

helpless, just one step short of his greatest ambition. The legendry old man was there, the one

Immortal every Nishachar feared. All his soldiers lay dead before the old man. And Fostermark

was standing there, fearful, with Brihaspati‟s trident pointed at his throat.

Still he had one final card to play.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn‟t kill you, Nishachar,” Lord Brihaspati said.

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“I could give you two,” Fostermark said, trying to keep his voice from trembling. “You might

want to have a look there before you kill me.” He said pointing towards the curtains.

Lord Brihaspati looked in the direction. It was placed on a bed in the centre of the chamber,

surrounded by a circular curtain.

Brihaspati realized how close Fostermark had been to get his hands on it. A sense of pride

enveloped him for Shri, who had held the Nishachars all alone for so long.

The „Weapon‟ hadn‟t even been unleashed yet and so much evil had already been spread. The

sacrifices had been great. Brihaspati knew he must destroy the weapon. That was the only way.

The destruction of the „Weapon‟ was going to take more than just courage.

Fostermark stood beside him glaring nervously at the watch. Two minutes still to midnight.

„Whatever you find once the curtains are off; don‟t hesitate.‟ Brihaspati reminded himself. He

knew what treacherous games the Weapon can play.

Brihaspati tugged off the curtain with a jerk and raised his trident. An unconscious feminine

figure was lying on the bed, with her back in the view. Brihaspati didn‟t want to see her face. It

didn‟t matter. He had to do it now.

At once the trident burst into flames, ready to strike. The female body turned around and

opened her eyes feebly. For a few moments, they both looked at each other.

He saw.

She sobbed and said feebly.

“Father… Please…”

Brihaspati‟s raised trident lost its flames, his hands trembled… A curt grin crossed Fostermark‟s

face.

The last card is also the uttermost card!

*************

(This is the prologue of the book, set fifteen year backward from the original story. The main

events of the book begin from Chapter 1…)

Releasing by late December ‟13 on flipkart/infibeam and all other major bookstores.

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About the Author

I was born in a region in present Bihar which is known as Mithila. As per the scriptures of the Ramayana, the inhabitants are widely believed to be the descendants of King Janak, the father of Lady Sita, my family being of them. Various folk tales and many other scriptures also verify the same.

Being from a family with roots so deep in the Epics ensured that mythological tales would be part of my blood, and my entire childhood was spent listening and dreaming about them. Engaging more into these tales, I found it to be a promising possibility that the Ramayana and Mahabharata could not have been the conclusive parts of the great battle between evil and the

good. It struck me then, „What if the main conclusive battle is to take place in our present time, the 21st

century?‟ And hence the idea of Temple of Avinasi was incepted. Ten years have passed since the day the concept came to me. And finally, now, after such a long span of grooming, polishing and re-polishing the story several times, the book is now finally having its moment in the sun. In the last ten years this story has been a part of my very soul and each moment of my life had been spent while being lost in the story‟s world. As a so-called descendent of Lady Sita, I felt it my responsibility to bring the story forward to the readers and now, when it is finally done, a wave of relief passes over me to see the work in print.

This is the first part of the six book long series and is named “The Temple of Avinasi: The Legend of the Kalki.”

*****

Ayush Pathak is an Electrical Engineer from BIET Jhansi and is presently residing in Nasik, Maharashtra. His theory about life is - “A life which begins with a dream, ends with success.”

He can be contacted at [email protected]